


Bite Sized

by NaughtyBees



Series: The Resize Ray [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Basically Arcade really goes on an adventure, Fluff, G/T, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Macro/Micro, Underwear entrapment, almost, almost vore, giant tiny - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7501353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaughtyBees/pseuds/NaughtyBees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arcade hates being stuck in the Lucky 38, especially when he has to work on a strange gun he's never seen before. But when he's in a strange accident, it falls to Boone to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Accident

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this, please leave a comment with thoughts! I'd really appreciate it.

Arcade pushed his glasses up as he rubbed his eyes in frustration at the current work he was doing on a weapon Six had given him. He had suggested that this unknown prototype be given to Raul to tinker with but that had only earned him a little shove of annoyance. He'd been told that Raul had to go look at something near Novac. So, here he was, taking apart a weapon that he had no information about. It was an energy weapon, running on MF cells but that was all he could learn from two hours of studying every part. He wrote down his findings as he went along, not really getting much. Perhaps a page and a half, most of it being sarcastic quips. His fingers ached a little from constantly assembling and disassembling the gun, the long, pale digits beginning to shake a little. He finished putting it back together again, holding it, marveling at how heavy it was. He put it down, cracking his knuckles, leaning back with his eyes closed, sighing softly, his fingers entwined with his white-blond hair. He listened to the soft noise from the adjacent room, Cass and Veronica playing Caravan while Lily cuddled Rex, the dog very happy to receive attention. By the loud tail thumps, Arcade guessed he was being scratched behind his brain casing, in the super tickly spot. He had let this windowless suite become his entire world, waiting to be hauled off on another trek across the Mojave. He sighed softly, letting himself relax to the chatter and soft tones of Mr New Vegas reporting from the radio. 

He was there for about five minutes, on the brink of sleep before a quiet voice drifted in from the doorway. “No luck?” 

Arcade fought the urge to smile. Ever since his stupid, schoolboy crush had overtaken his mind, he'd always cursed himself for grinning at Boone, eyes lingering too long on his biceps or his chapped lips, loving how his face was always moulded into a scowl and the way he barely ever spoke. He, instead, opted for sitting up and lifting the gun for the other to see. “It seems to be some kind of weapon.” he drawled sarcastically. “Possibly makes a kind of ‘pew pew’ noise when fired.” He slowly sat up, straightening his glasses, eyes focused on the sniper. 

Boone made a soft noise in this throat that Arcade knew was a chuckle. Too short to be seen as anything but a grunt to those who didn't know him. “Good work.” He said as he sat down, leaning on the table, smiling slightly. Arcade was proud that he could read those micro expressions. A slight turn up of the mouth, a little crinkle of the eyes, it was difficult to master but very rewarding once learnt. 

Arcade loaded the weapon, handing it to Boone. “I need to figure out what it does. Don't want to go shooting it around in here though. I'm allergic to corpse ash.”  
He watched as Boone looked over it with the slight look of disdain that came from a sniper inspecting a pistol.

“...It doesn't have a scope. That's all I got.” Boone muttered, placing it down. Arcade smiled slightly, knowing that would be all he had to say. He shook his head, sighing softly, rubbing his face with his palms. “You need a break?” Boone asked, looking at him with a hint of a frown. 

Arcade nodded, holding the gun in one hand. “I'm exhausted. I'd sleep but I need to work out what the hell this does. And if it's just a fancy looking plasma pistol or something, I'll shoot myself with it.”

Boone was about to open his mouth to speak when Rex came bounding in, barking happily. He was extremely excited and barrelled right into Boone who flung out his arms to steady himself, knocking the pistol free of Arcade’s grip. It flew through the air, spinning, hitting the wall, a beam of violet light shooting from it. It hit Arcade square in the chest, the doctor crying out just before he vanished, having been vaporised. The pistol clattered onto the ground in two pieces, each skidding either direction. 

There was a beat before Boone stood up, kicking his chair backwards and moving to where Arcade was sat, his hands shaking slightly as he investigated.

Arcade felt as though he'd been in a naked fist fight with a deathclaw on psycho and his behemoth buddy. His entire body ached, throbbing painfully, his muscles randomly bunching and twitching. It was hard to gather his thoughts. He'd been with Boone. There was a gun… nothing much else registered in his mind. He could hear an awful sound, like thunder. Or maybe it was an earthquake since the ground was far from steady. He opened his eyes, blinking as he noticed there was a ceiling far above him. That was a good sign. The ground was lumpy, however, poking into his back, making him uncomfortable. He heard a voice calling his name that sounded like Boone’s. It was loud, like he was yelling into his ears, and Arcade winced at the volume, looking around only to find he was alone.  
“I'm over here…” He croaked. When he received no response, he took a deep breath. “BOONE!” He bellowed, coughing afterwards, his chest protesting. The earthquake stopped and he breathed a sigh of relief. The ceiling was suddenly ripped away, pulled to the side by a colossal hand. There, in its place, was a face he recognised by the trademark beret. Sunglasses had been discarded, worried eyes now open to the air. 

Arcade stared at Boone. Boone stared right back. It was Arcade who spoke first. Actually, it was more like he let out a shriek and began to scramble backwards. His eyes moved around, noting that the supposed ceiling was actually the chair he'd been sat on. Everything was enormous, the lumpy carpet fibres, the furniture, and when Boone moved, so did the ground. With another shriek, Arcade tried to dodge Boone’s hand, the fingers being thicker than his torso. He stood up, finding it difficult as he gathered he'd done a little damage falling off his chair. 

“Just stand still, Gannon, Jesus…” Boone muttered, his voice nowhere near as painful as it could have been. It was soft and gentle, as if he knew that Arcade was a lot more sensitive. Still, the diminutive doctor didn't have the nerve to stand while a hand the size of a car hurtled towards him. He started sprinting, his heart hammering in his chest, eyes wide and sweat making his glasses wet. He could feel the tremors as Boone stood, which only pressed him to move faster. That is until a loop in the carpet caught his foot, sending him tumbling down. He skidded on his side, crying out as he hurt his already bruised hip. He rolled onto his back just as an enormous callused palm descended upon him. He felt Boone’s fingers nudge their way under his back, lifting him so they could press him into the rough skin above him. He didn't struggle, except when he felt his stomach leave his body as he was whisked upwards, his arms flailing a little as he searched for a handhold. He was turned over, laying on his front on Boone’s palm. He felt the pressure leave his back, nothing holding him down. He cautiously moved to sit up, noticing how he could see every little groove beneath him. Every tiny twitch of muscle and sinew jolted him, making him feel unsteady. He looked back, seeing fingers taller than himself curled slightly behind him. He tried not to think about how easy it would be for Boone to squash him flat. 

A sudden gust of wind nearly sent him flying backwards and he yelped, digging his fingers into the flesh below him in a bid to stay put. The colossal gale was simply a soft sigh of relief from Boone who smiled slightly. “I thought you were dead.” He whispered, seemingly happy to talk near silently. 

Arcade straightened his glasses, his hands shaking a little as he looked at the sniper, his eyes suddenly able to pick out imperfections in the skin. It was kind of disgusting, how he could point out every blemish, each clogged pore and even where the separate hues mismatched together. Boone’s scent overwhelmed him, being all he could smell. Sweat and guns and sand. He looked into his eyes, seeing every sinew, every splotch of colour, every pronounced vein, each fleck of brown within the green. It was terrifying and beautiful and exhilarating all at once.  
Arcade did the only thing he knew how to. “If you eat me, I swear to god I'll make you have the worst food poisoning.”

Boone’s smile was so easy to detect despite it being a mere twitch of the mouth. “You're too stringy for me.” He mumbled softly. His voice made Arcade’s hair wave gently with the breeze. His breath smelled of barrel cactus fruit and was quite pleasant. “...God, you're so small. You're like an inch.”

Arcade shook his head. “I'm bigger than that but I get your point.” He sat back, crossing his legs. “This is so surreal. At least now we know what the gun does. Where is it? We could see if we can reverse what it did.” 

Boone’s brow crinkled and he turned around slowly, his fingers twitching with anticipation just in case he needed to grab Arcade. He walked over to the table and placed his hand flat, letting the small man stand and walk onto the wooden surface. Reaching down, Arcade tried to lift his measuring tape, finding it difficult to heft the plastic above his head. He felt the tape become much lighter until it was tugged gently from his hands by Boone who held it for him. Arcade stood up tall, waiting for the verdict.  
“Three inches.” Arcade’s shoulders slumped and he sighed quietly, slowly seating himself on the handle of a screwdriver. 

He watched as Boone leant down, picking up the gun. When he placed both pieces on  
the table, Arcade’s chest lurched. He felt sick as he looked up at the intense green eyes boring into him. “...I'm… I'm stuck this way.” He muttered. 

Boone sat at the desk, taking off his beret and scrubbing his palm across his hairless scalp, shaved out of habit after serving in the NCR First Recon. “Well… at least until Raul comes back.”

Arcade had rarely seen Boone without his sunglasses and beret. He felt as though he'd been told a big secret, honoured, feeling sort of special. He sighed softly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What if it doesn't have a different setting? What will I do if I'm tiny forever? Nobody will take me seriously, and I'll probably be killed within a week.”

Boone opened his mouth to speak but quickly threw his beret over Arcade who squeaked in surprise. He was about to protest when he heard Veronica from the doorway. He closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of sweat and worn leather. He reached up about an inch above his head to where the red wool was resting, surprisingly soft. He could picture himself sleeping on it, easily. His mind wandered to him and Boone. He pictured himself laid on that wide expanse of muscle between the sniper’s pecs, a heartbeat so loud his ears would throb. Boone’s every word would shake him to the core and he would appreciate every syllable. Imagination getting the better of him, he thought about how Boone could completely dominate him. Before, he had size against the other’s strength. Now, Boone was holding all the aces. Arcade imagined himself laid underneath him, the thought of being crushed at any second exciting him. He imagined Boone straddling him, length in hand, threatening him with a swift death if Arcade wasn't the lover he always hinted that he was. 

Blinding light caught Arcade off guard as the beret was whisked off him. He quickly pulled his white coat around him to hide any offending bulges, however small they may be. Boone’s eyebrows furrowed and he picked up a cloth, gently tucking it around Arcade’s shoulders in case he was cold, interpreting him hiding his erection as keeping away a chill. “I won't let anyone kill you.” Boone whispered as Arcade pulled the cloth around himself, feigning being cold. “We can work this out.”

Arcade grinned a little. “Sounds to me like you're going soft.” He sat up, looking into Boone’s eyes, each one twice as big as his head. “Thank you. Really. Joking aside, this is fucking terrifying. You're fucking terrifying. I mean, look at you. You could crush me without thinking about it.” He shook his head, sighing. “I really appreciate this.”

Boone shifted in his seat a little, eyes glancing around before he tentatively reached out, cupping his hand around Arcade’s back. He seemed surprised when the smaller man nuzzled into the rough flesh, relaxing against it, eyes closed, a tint smile on his face. Arcade knew in that moment that he'd be just fine, even if he was bite sized.


	2. Settling In

Arcade was still aching all over from his fall from a chair that just happened to be around 20 feet in the air. He was thankful that the floor was carpeted or he might have broken something. It had been a day since he'd been shrunk by a strange weapon prototype and life was no easier. He'd slept on one of Boone’s shirts beside his bed. It was cleaner than he would have liked, smelling too strongly of abraxo for his newly delicate sense of smell, but it was warm and comfortable so he didn't mind too much. He had woken up to the deafening clamouring of his room mates all deciding a day on the strip was well deserved. This meant that he was alone with Boone and Rex since the former had made an excuse to stay and the latter wasn't allowed in the casinos after the peeing on the roulette table incident at Gomorrah. Now, Arcade was sat on a balled up napkin on the table, waiting for Boone. This would be his first meal at his new size and he wasn't looking forward to it. He'd been exploring the cupboards and had found an unopened packet of earwax spoons and a clean needle which would serve as cutlery. Boone had said he was making brahmin omlette and it smelled pretty good. Arcade sipped coffee from an ointment tube cap he'd found and washed, taking a moment to enjoy the familiar taste. 

“I don't know how much you'll eat but I just made enough for me.” Boone placed his plate down and sat at the table. The food looked as delicious as it smelled and Arcade smiled as a generous portion was cut off and pushed to the side for him. “You okay eating off my plate?”

Arcade pulled his makeshift seat closer, finding the plate was the right height for him to eat from. “I'll manage.” He smiled, digging in ravenously. It was rather rubbery as he couldn't exert much force with how small his jaw was but he enjoyed the taste nonetheless. It was smoky and slightly spicy from the pepper in it. “Mm. ‘s good.” he said around his mouthful, noticing Boone’s nod of thanks. 

There was silence as they ate, but it was comfortable. For Arcade, the experience of watching Boone eat was completely new. His new height made everyday chores into life threatening tasks and this was just plain scary. Boone was never one to question what he was eating, he just shovelled it in. Lumps of meat bigger than Arcade were pushed into his waiting maw, pulverized noisily and swallowed without a thought. It was impossible for Arcade not to envision a scenario where he was just a little more to the right, being pushed onto a fork, on his way to either a quick, messy death or a slow, melty death. He snapped out of it when Boone caught him staring with what he hoped wasn't a terrified, open mouthed expression. He quickly bowed his head, using his makeshift spoon to push chunks of food around. The clink and scrape of cutlery seemed to slow and Arcade knew it was Boone’s turn to stare at him. He tried to ignore it, picking around a peppercorn as big as his thumb, but he glanced up, catching his gaze again, his face heating up. 

Arcade held his ground, staring right back. There was a moment of silence before Boone swallowed his mouthful with a loud gulp noise that sent a shiver down Arcade’s spine. He took a breath to steady himself, sipping his coffee. “Cap for your thoughts?” he asked, opting for staring at the black liquid. He mentally noted that he should be happy that surface tension wasn't a problem for him at this size or the coffee would literally force itself down his throat. 

“Just wondering if we should go somewhere.” Boone mumbled, scraping the last bite onto his fork. “I don't trust anyone else with you.” he put his cutlery together on the plate as he chewed, the action attracting Arcade’s attention again. As he swallowed, he could see the lump the food caused, travelling down his neck and disappearing past his collar bone. 

“...what, uh… what do you suggest?” Arcade asked, trying to think of anything but how easy he'd be to eat. How it would feel sliding down Boone’s esophagus on a one way trip into his belly. The more he tried to distract himself, the more he thought about it and the more he felt dread writhing in his stomach. 

Boone must have noticed how peaky Arcade seemed as he moved the plate aside, slowly reaching for him. This simple action startled the smaller man, causing him to scramble backwards, tumbling onto his bruised back with a thump, his chest rising and falling with pained and scared breaths. Boone’s hand retracted and he frowned, balling it into a fist and placing it on the table near the edge. “I… I was gonna ask if you wanted to go to a hotel. I'll dip into the emergency caps.” Boone’s voice betrayed how hurt he was. It made Arcade feel guilty and he slowly stood up, clutching his back with a wince. “Unless you don't want to.”

Walking forward, Arcade touched Boone’s hand, waiting until it slowly opened. He climbed onto the spongy flesh, sitting cross legged, just to prove that he didn't see his friend as some kind of monster. “Just warn me next time, okay? It's kind of startling.” He placed his hand on Boone’s thumb, smiling up at him. “I'll go wherever you think is best. I trust you.” 

Relieved, Boone’s scowl softened and he nodded. He took the plate in one hand and set it down for Rex to clean off. He then lifted his hand to his shoulder and Arcade climbed on, taking a moment to sit securely, holding his shirt tightly and pressing close to his warm neck. Again, his eyes drifted to the small imperfections on his cheek. He could see the stout hairs on his jaw, each the diameter of a plastic brush bristle. He reached for one, tugging it slightly with curiosity. “Hmm. You haven't shaved.” Arcade muttered. 

“No… not this morning.” Boone replied in a whisper, putting the plate in the sink. He began to walk out of the kitchen and Arcade smiled, the breeze rushing through his hair. At his size he waw essentially travelling at around 80mph, a speed that was very exhilarating seeing as he'd never travelled this fast before. He laughed softly, noticing a side glance from Boone. “What?” 

“It's really fast!” Arcade grinned, a bubble of childish glee rising in his chest. When Boone started walking faster, he dug his hands into the fabric of his shirt, adrenaline rushing through him. When Boone stopped at his bed, Arcade’s hair was blown back. He let himself be placed on the bed and teased his blond locks back into place. “Where did you have in mind?”

Boone started packing his things, placing clean clothes into a bag. “Vault 21.” he said simply before he went into the courier’s room, counting out some of the emergency caps. 

Arcade walked to the edge of the bed, looking down at the floor. It was a considerable way down. He was about to back up when a wet, snuffling nose was pressed against him. He tensed with fear, not wanting to make any sudden moves in case Rex decided to use him as a chew toy. He reached forward, rubbing a hand against the dog’s fur on the bridge of his nose. “Good boy… oh, god, don't bite me. I'm not a rat.” This provoked a quiet growl and Arcade flinched. “I said I'm _not_ a rat.” Rex opened his mouth, licking Arcade happily, leaving a trail of sticky saliva on his clothes. “Oh, just wonderful. This is exactly what I needed.”

Boone came back into the room, suddenly rushing forward as he noticed Rex. He pulled him back by the collar, pushing him out of the room. He closed the door, walking back to Arcade. “Did he hurt you?” he asked, crouching beside the bed. 

“I'm just soggy. Thanks anyway for the timely rescue.” Arcade used his fingers to wipe away the slobber from his glasses. “I need a wash.” 

Boone carefully scooped him up, taking him to the bathroom. He held him in one hand as he ran water into the sink, making sure it wasn't too hot. He then set Arcade on the side of the sink. “Call me when you need me, okay?”

Arcade smirked as he pulled off his coat. “What, you're not going to wash me? I seriously misread the situation.” he grinned when Boone’s ears went scarlet and he ducked out of the room. He stripped off, dropping his clothes in the water then sliding into the hot, bubbly bath. It came up to his chest while he stood up and he felt as though he was in a Roman bath house. He started scrubbing his clothes clean, soon getting them spotless once more. 

Once he'd hung everything over the taps, he laid back, letting himself float. His mind began to wander. If they couldn't get the weapon fixed, what would he do? Stay Boone’s pet for the rest of his life? Thinking about it, the idea wasn't too unappealing to him. He'd get Boone all to himself and could always be close to him and his beautiful butt. Still, he wouldn't want to be three inches tall for the rest of his life. He wondered how the stay in a hotel would play out. Him and Boone together for a few days. Anything could happen. 

He washed his glasses and his hair, making sure he was clean before calling Boone. When he eventually came in, he picked up a clean, dry towel, looking away as much as he could as he picked Arcade up, putting him in the towel. The blush on his face was easy to detect for Arcade and he smiled as Boone wrapped him up like a baby. He picked up his clothes, wringing them out before going back to his room. He laid Arcade on his pillow before putting his clothes to dry on the radiator. Arcade snuggled into the towel, using the corner to dry his hair and polish his glasses.   
“Gonna have to see about getting you spare clothes.” Boone muttered to him, hands on his hips as he thought. 

“Why? I look good in everything, napkins included.” Arcade smirked as he sat up, making sure the towel was protecting his modesty. “Oh, make sure you pack my book. I don't want to get bored. Not that you're boring, just not...talkative.”

Boone nodded, leaving without a word. Arcade laughed softly, shaking his head and sighing as he leant on his arm. The next few days would really be interesting.


	3. Familiarisation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about this chapter lmaoo

Arcade relaxed onto the soft bed in the hotel room, the plush duvet hugging him, making his eyelids feel weary. He watched as Boone laid out some clean clothes for himself, about to go shower.  
“I might have a little nap. Is that okay?” Arcade asked. Boone nodded, putting his hat and glasses on the bed. Once Boone was out of the room, Arcade yawned, stretching. He sat up, looking around the room. He thought about what would happen if he and Boone came somewhere like this once he was full sized, getting a room with one bed so they could have some fun. He smiled, about to lay down when something caught his eye. His book was on the floor and he supposed he could read for a little while, learn some new Latin poems. 

He looked around trying to find some way to get down without breaking a leg. He didn't have anything by way of a rope but he did have a pillow. He stood, grabbing the corner of the pillow case, trying to pull it to the edge of the bed. It wouldn't budge an inch no matter how hard he tried. He sighed and kept looking. As he tried, he thought about the first time Boone had heard him speak Latin in the Lucky 38. He remembered how strange it felt to have a man a head and shoulders shorter than him effectively pinning him against the wall, rough hands clasped around his neck. Of course, Boone had every right to hate him considering everyone associated Latin with Caesar’s Legion. He'd hate himself too if he was in Boone’s position. He remembered choking out that he'd learnt Latin from old holotapes and he wasn't a spy for the most hated faction in the Mojave wasteland. He'd had bruises on his neck for weeks afterwards, a reminder that Boone wasn't just good at long range combat. He shuddered to think what would have happened if he were this size when Boone thought he was ‘Legion scum’.

“Bingo.” Arcade smiled as he pushed Boone’s clean clothes onto the floor to cushion his fall. He leapt off the side of the bed, falling down into the pile with barely a hair out of place. He was about to get up when the bathroom door opened and Boone came out, towel around his waist, his skin damp. Arcade was about to move out of the clothes pile when Boone dropped his towel, clearly assuming Arcade was napping. “Jesus Christ.” The doctor whispered to himself as his eyes fell on the monster between Boone’s legs. It would have been a respectable flaccid size were Arcade his usual 6’3”. Now, he conjectured it was around 8 feet long. He quickly burrowed into the clothes pile to try get somewhere he wouldn't be labelled as a voyeur. He squeaked softly as his stomach was left behind, his body being pulled upwards. ‘Shit. Rumbled.’ He thought, getting ready to explain himself. However, he wasn't at all rumbled. He felt a weight on his back and froze, suddenly realising which item of clothing he was on when he heard the snap of a waistband. He looked around, his heart leaping into his throat when he realised he was now bedfellows with that impressive 8 feet. Thanks to the little light coming through the thick fabric, he could see every single detail of what he'd been imagining when he'd met Boone last year. He fully turned around, his heart thumping loudly as he thought about how the fuck he was gonna get out of this one. He felt his throat close up as the light was cut off by Boone putting on his jeans. 

‘Well, you've done it now, Arcade.’ He thought, head in his hands. ‘You'll forever be known as the tiny gay guy who gets into his friend’s underwear.’ He wondered how he could get out without being noticed. Maybe he could wait until Boone next went to the bathroom and sneak out as best he could? Or he could just tell Boone and risk being squashed for being perverted. He wondered if it would be as bad as he thought it would be if he told Boone his father was part of the Enclave. Probably not as he'd either be killed or be given indefinite imprisonment for that. For this, he might just be killed. He resisted the urge to cry out as Boone sat down, the fabric against Arcade’s back tightening, pushing him forward. This wasn't how he envisioned his first sexual encounter with Boone. In his head there were candles and being full sized. Not fearing for his life with his face pressed against his friend’s junk.

“Arcade?” Boone asked. “Where are you?”  
With a soft sigh, Arcade steeled himself, trying to think of a last ditch attempt to get out of this alive. 

Drawing a blank, he decided to get it over with. “I heard you had a radroach infestation down here, I was just checking to make sure it wasn't serious.” Arcade said, sarcastic as ever. “As much as I enjoy my extermination duties, I would like a hand.”

There was a pause so thick it would break a machete if cut. After a few seconds, Arcade heard the zip being undone behind him and the pressure leave his back, neon lighting glaring in at him. He looked up, seeing Boone’s face as red as his beret. His expression was a strange concoction that Arcade couldn't identify. He peeled himself off the soft skin he was pinned to, crossing his arms. He was picked up by the back of his white coat, being pulled up out of Boone’s boxers. “This wasn't how I pictured our love story. It was more ‘man falls for young sniper way out of his league who is grieving over dead wife, slowly gains his affections despite how unlikable he is.’ Not ‘man falls into young sniper's laundry’. Still, I guess it's not all bad.” He said as he was placed on Boone’s lap, watching as he zipped his jeans up again. “At least I can't sink any lower in your estimation.”

Boone was silent, his face an impossible shade of scarlet. He looked Arcade over, subconsciously reaching between his legs to adjust himself. He took off his beret, palming his scalp as he thought. Arcade was about to make another stray sarcastic comment when Boone began to speak.  
“I'm not… Not good at this. Yeah, that was super fucking awkward but… I guess…” He sighed heavily at himself in frustration, rubbing his face with his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose. “...I haven't been… I mean I…” He shook his head, putting his beret back on, scowling. “Never mind. Not important.” 

Arcade frowned a little, wishing Boone knew how to communicate his feelings. He was so emotionally constipated, Arcade wondered how he even asked his wife to marry him in the first place. “It’s okay. You can tell me when you're ready.” He reassured him, smiling as he noticed his blush wasn't fading in the least. 

oOo

“Boone, you're crushing me.”

“Shh!”

“Don't shush me, my lungs don't want to meet your fingers, thank you very much.”

Arcade huffed as he was shushed again, pushing against Boone’s fingers as they curled more securely around him. He was sat in the pocket of his jeans, those calloused fingers he so loved coiled around him to prevent him being seen or squashed by the tight fabric. Arcade wasn't hungry but Boone had decided to go to the cafeteria and he supposed he didn't want to stay behind. So he was being squashed while Boone got what he wanted from the cafeteria. He then moved to a secluded corner, pulling Arcade out of his pocket in his fist. 

“I thought I'd never see light again.” Arcade muttered sourly as he was put down, a napkin being put over him so he was a little hidden. He watched as Boone coiled his arm around him and his plate, obstructing him from view. Arcade leant against his arm, the loud thrum of his pulse making his head buzz not at all unpleasantly. The smell coming from the gecko steak, fresh bighorner cheese bread and fat, buttery beans made him wish he was eating it. But after so many close shaves with death, he decided not to. He was content with watching Boone eat in silence for a while, noticing all the chunks of food collecting around his mouth. He was no longer repulsed by this as he was getting used to it by now. The way he saw everything as though through a high powered magnifying glass. His mind began to wander and he started thinking about what could happen if he stayed like this. If he stayed with the Followers, he supposed Julie could keep him safe. Plus, he would be able to do a lot of finicky things that bigger fingers wouldn't be able to do, improving his career as a doctor. It didn't sound too bad.

He was brought back to reality when he felt the tremors indicating approaching footsteps. He pulled the napkin over his head, acting as much like a napkin as he could. He heard someone sit down opposite Boone and he noticed Boone stop chewing. He never stopped chewing for anybody. With his childhood, it was inhale your dinner or have it swiped so having him pause in the middle of a mouthful was like finding an electrified mini nuke; extremely rare and completely shocking. 

“I couldn't help notice you sitting alone.” Came a silky voice. Female. Arcade sighed, nodding to himself. He'd bet a star bottlecap that she was just the type Boone liked. “Mind if I join you? Maybe we could share a coffee or a beer…” Arcade waited for his napkin to be balled up and shoved in Boone’s back pocket while the sniper relieved some of his tension. 

“No, thanks.” Arcade paused as he listened to the exchange. 

“Why not? Surely a big, handsome guy like yourself needs someone.” Came the voice. Arcade balled his fists as Boone denied yet she kept persisting. 

Arcade felt Boone’s arm jerk away and knew she was touching him without consent. He threw the napkin off himself in a rage, about to give her a piece of his mind when he was suddenly clamped in a tight fist. There was a beat of silence as Boone ascertained whether or not she saw Arcade. Then, the diminutive doctor felt himself lifted upwards and turned upside down, all his blood rushing to his head.  
“Napkin.” Boone explained and Arcade felt his coat being tugged out of the fist and used to wipe all the food off his mouth. He grimaced as he thought about all the muck he saw and likened it to being covered in brahmin mash. 

“Don't be such a wet rag. You should be honoured to go out with me.” The woman spat with venom. “Most men are.”

Arcade wriggled within Boone’s fist, frowning as he was held tighter. “I've got a boyfriend.” Boone said, making Arcade pause, his heart stopping. 

There was a beat of silence. “...Oh yeah? Okay then, tell me about him.” The woman said, clearly disbelieving. 

“Arcade Gannon. He's a doctor for the Followers of the Apocalypse in Freeside.” Boone muttered. “He’s 6’ 3”, he likes black coffee, he speaks Latin in his sleep. He also thinks I don't notice when he looks at my butt.” Arcade felt his face heat up. He knew Boone was observant but this was amazing. “So, thank you but no thank you.”  
Arcade felt himself being balled up in the other napkin and held tightly as Boone moved away. He sighed as he thought about how he needed to wash his coat again. The third time since he shrank. His stomach turned as he was lifted up, being pressed against something soft. He heard a quiet voice beside his head and smiled.  
“Sorry about that.”

“...’Boyfriend’?” Arcade replied, smiling. “I never knew you had a heart, Craig. You're really going soft on me.”

Boone unwrapped his napkin once they were in the hotel room, looking down at Arcade with a blush. “It's been known to happen.” He put Arcade on the bed and sat beside him. 

“It's been an eventful day.” Arcade said, sighing and laying back, looking up at Boone. “Not wholly unenjoyable.”  
Boone didn't answer but Arcade didn't mind. He just laid there, relaxing in the knowledge that he might just be winning the sniper’s affections.


	4. Boundaries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Clark for giving me motivation to actually write this fuckin thing, you go Clark.

Arcade sighed, stretching out his limbs, in pure bliss. He was laid between Boone’s pecs in the centre of his chest, feeling warmth radiate through him. His body moved constantly as Boone’s heart beat behind him like a colossal drum, pounding the rhythm into his very being. He rose and fell as Boone breathed, feeling completely content. There was nothing in the world to worry about right now. The daily struggle of life was somehow put on hold. Boone was his everything whilst he was like this and it felt great. He had everything he needed and was more than happy to stay like this for a while longer. He curled on his side, sighing happily and he snuggled between those muscular pecs. 

“...I brought some food with me for later if you're hungry now.” Boone mumbled, Arcade feeling the volume of his voice vibrate his chest cavity. 

“I'm fine.” Arcade said with a soft exhale, feeling wonderful. “You can eat though. I don't care.”  
He heard rustling then chewing as Boone ate in bed. He quietly laughed, not expecting anything else from the sniper. Of course he'd eat in bed.  
“Don't choke.” Arcade said with a soft yawn, listening intently to Boone’s heart. It was such an amazing feeling - being insignificant. It didn't fill him with existential horror. More like it made him feel like he didn't have responsibility to anyone anymore. He felt free.

“Ouch…” Boone mumbled, slowly sitting up, catching Arcade in his hand and setting him on his pillow. He put his food down and reached two fingers into his mouth, visibly wincing as he tried to pry something from between his teeth. He grunted, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and walking to the bathroom. Arcade sighed, sitting on the pillow, waiting for Boone to come back. He felt as though he were still throbbing with the beat of a heart, his own in his chest beating the same rhythm yet so much quieter. Pathetically so.  
“Gannon. Got a problem.” Boone said as he walked back in. 

“Hm?” Arcade looked up, seeing the small crease in the corner of Boone’s left eye that betrayed that he was in pain. “Anything I can help with?”

Boone sat down, rubbing his cheek a little. “I've got a bone shard stuck in my gum. I can't see to get it out.”

Arcade’s curious and worried look turned to realisation then a scowl. “Great. Just great.”

oOo

“Don't close your mouth. And don't move your tongue. And don't jostle me about. And whatever you do, don't let go of that string!” Arcade said as he tightened the dental floss around his waist. A little lifeline in case of emergency. He wasn't ready for this. Who would be ready to go _inside_ their crushes mouth? Not Arcade.

“I got it, I got it.” Boone said with a sigh, lifting Arcade to his face. “Just hurry up.”

Arcade flinched in horror as Boone opened up his mouth wide. It was like a cavern, huge and dark, full of sharp objects that could impale him. Great. Arcade had taken most of his clothes off beforehand, now just in his shirt and boxer shorts. Otherwise he expected he'd die of heat exhaustion. He tentatively stepped over Boone’s teeth onto his tongue, cringing as the slippery wetness squished underfoot. Hot, spice scented breath hit him like he'd been shoved into a sauna, sweat already forming on his brow. 

“This isn't the best dental procedure I've ever done. It's in the bottom three.” He said as he walked towards Boone’s molars, his hands resting on his huge, pearly white teeth. Each one was bigger than a gravestone, more than capable of crushing Arcade into a fine paste. He tried not to let fear overcome him as he approached the bone shard that was giving Boone grief. It was as long as his forearm, embedded into the gap between two teeth quite deeply. He looked back towards the opening of Boone’s mouth. Tongue, gum, teeth, then a ring of lips giving way to the outside world. ‘Just get it out of the way, Arcade.’ He thought, reaching to take hold of the bone shard. He gave a sharp tug and Boone grunted in pain, his tongue shifting violently, sending Arcade sprawling onto his tongue, getting covered in saliva. “Hey! I said don't move!” Arcade yelled as he got to his feet. 

He tried pulling the shard up, down, each side and straight but it wouldn't budge. There had to be an angle that would work. He tried again, trying to balance himself against Boone’s pained squirming. He wondered why he was finding it increasingly harder when he noticed how soggy he was getting. Oh god, Boone was salivating more. Arcade felt anxiety pool in the pit of his stomach. Did Boone like the taste of him? Should he be worried about if Boone finds him tastier than his food? He shuddered, trying again to tug the bone shard from where it was embedded. He suddenly yelped as he slipped again but this time, the bone shard came free in Arcade’s hand. There was then darkness as Boone snapped his jaws shut, groaning and holding his cheek, leaving Arcade trapped, claustrophobic and afraid for his life. 

“Boone! Boone, get me out of here!” Arcade started to panic, thrashing a little, his movements causing Boone to notice him and open wide. However, he angled his head back and Arcade started to slide backwards, heading towards the awful, dark chasm behind him. “BOONE!” Arcade screamed, stabbing the bone shard deep into the flesh of Boone’s tongue in order to stay in place, causing the man to cry out. Arcade clapped his hands to his ears, subsequently sliding backwards, his body starting to feel too vertical as his legs hit Boone’s uvula. 

As quickly as it happened, it was over, Arcade being gently pulled by the floss, tugged out of Boone’s mouth. He made sure to pull out the shard on his way past, holding it close to his chest. He was full to the brim with adrenaline and was trembling violently, eyes wide.  
Boone had a hand towel ready and wrapped Arcade up in it, softly apologising as he held the terrified bundle close. “It's okay, it's over. I'd never have let you get hurt.” Boone muttered. Arcade began to calm down, silently wondering if this was Boone’s dad mode. He had heard somewhere that Carla Boone was pregnant when she died. Maybe Boone had hidden paternal talent.  
“Thank you.” Boone added, glancing away. 

Arcade cleaned his glasses off on the towel, sighing softly. “You owe me. I was nearly sniper food.” His hands wouldn't stop shaking, his fingers still numb from the adrenaline. He was still clutching the bone shard. 

Boone grunted in the amused way he usually did. “You need to gain a few ounces before I'd consider you adequate sniper food.” He pulled the still damp doctor from the towel, holding him gently in his rough palms, bringing him close. 

“If you're gonna try scare me again--” Arcade was cut off when Boone brushed his top lip against his cheek, feeling his ears burn scarlet. His breath caught in his throat, seeing the irony of the situation. Still, he pressed close, exhaling as he sank into the soft, flushed flesh. “I could get used to this.” He muttered, pressing a few kisses to Boone’s lower lip, wondering if he even felt them. Probably not. But he'd get the chance to kiss him properly when he was back to normal. If. If he went back to normal.


	5. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been over a year (pls don't kill me) but you guys finally get an ending!

After being shrunk, squashed, grabbed, dropped in underwear and almost swallowed, Arcade decided he didn't like being tiny, despite the fact that Boone thought that he was responsible for Arcade’s wellbeing. The tiny doctor couldn't do anything without being fussed over and he loved how Boone held him close and stroked his back with those rough fingers. He wanted to be full sized but he'd miss the attention he got at his diminutive stature.

Arcade had had to persuade Boone to let him teach him a little Latin. There wasn't much else to do besides gamble and neither of them had the caps to waste. Obviously Boone wasn't keen, seeing as Latin was regularly associated with the Legion, but Arcade assured him that it wouldn't make him suddenly swap factions.  
Boone laid on his front on the bed, book held in his hands, Arcade sat level with his chin. 

“Try again. Amor vincit omnia.” Arcade spoke slowly, enunciating clearly for Boone.  
The sniper mumbled through his words, not putting the right emphasis in the right places. He grumbled quietly, looking down at Arcade. “I'm no good with speaking.”

Arcade nodded, smiling slightly. “And yet, you still find the words to complain.” He leant back against the sniper’s chin, finding the short bristles there caught on his coat. “I guess I'll have to be the spokesperson for both of us.” He looked up, seeing Boone scanning through the words on the page. There was a long pause, not uncomfortable at all, just two men enjoying each others company. “Can I ask you a question, Craig?”

Boone’s mouth twinged into the slightest of smiles. “I'm sure I won't be able to stop you, Gannon.”

Arcade chuckled softly before folding his arms, becoming slightly serious. “Are you enjoying yourself? Or do you just feel like you need to take care of me?” He hoped it wouldn't seem like a loaded question. 

Boone sighed through his nose, his breath tousling Arcade’s hair. “...I won't lie to you, Arcade… I, uh… I like you. I mean, I think about Carla every day but…” His cheeks tinged pink, beret coming off so he could scrub his palm over his head. “Goddammit. I really enjoy being around you. I honestly don't think I've been this happy in all my time with Six.”

Arcade felt his heart leap, unable to stop his face breaking into a grin that hurt his cheeks. “Are you serious?!”

Boone nodded. “I think I can only tell you now because you're so small. Less intimidating.”

Pressing himself into Boone’s lips, Arcade snickered when he felt them press into him, pursing slightly. “I suppose I can stop with all the unrequited pining then! Don't get me wrong, these past few days have been an unmitigated disaster but being with you… it's made everything feel better.” He pushed his glasses up, stepping back and looking up at Boone who was smiling through his uncharacteristically violent blush. “I'm glad you're here, Craig.”

The sniper simply nodded and Arcade knew he felt it too. 

oOo

“Thank you for your patronage, we hope you come back soon, sir!” Sarah Weintraub chimed as Boone left the Vault 21 gift shop, Arcade snug in his pocket. He strode across the strip, the diminutive doctor curled up safe. Or so he thought. 

A man bumped shoulders with Boone, swiftly reaching into his pocket. He snatched Arcade with deft hands, apologising to Boone as he walked away quickly. Arcade felt his chest tighten with anxiety as the pickpocket looked at him with confusion, his thick brow creasing. “What the fuck are you?!”

Gritting his teeth, Arcade glared. “What, you've never seen a radmouse before?! I've got a venomous bite, you'd be dead in six seconds.”

Before the man could process the threat, a rifle barrel was pressed behind his ear, a low voice spitting sharp words at him. “I'm a first recon sniper, I'm a damn good shot. But at this distance, I doubt I'll miss. Give that back or I'll splatter you so much they won't find every part of you.”

The man was clearly terrified, eyes wide and confused. He shoved Arcade into Boone’s hands and took off, sprinting away. Lowering his rifle, Boone clutched Arcade to his chest tight and he could hear his heart pounding furiously. He looked down at him once the man was out of sight, a worried crease in his brow. Arcade smiled and pulled his thumb close, pressing a kiss to the tip of it. “Thank you. Seems I'm pretty useless, hm?”

“Yep.” Was all Boone said, a smirk on his face. 

Arcade gave him a half hearted glare. “You're not meant to agree with me.” He felt himself be pressed into the hard muscle of Boone’s pecs, his thumb gently brushing over his shoulder. Arcade never pinned Boone as the physical affection type but he realised with a frown that it was probably akin to stroking a pet. 

In the elevator up to the presidential suite,  
Arcade felt a little shaky, breathing deeply to steady himself. “...If Raul can't fix it… If it can't be fixed and I'm stuck like this… What will happen?”

The fingers cradling Arcade tightened not uncomfortably but slightly unnervingly. It was clear it was meant to be for reassurance and Boone exhaled. “I'll look after you.”

Arcade let out a half hearted scoff. “I'm hardly a good pet. I can't do anything by myself like this.”

Boone narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn't be a pet. You'd be my b…” He stopped in his tracks when the elevator doors opened, revealing Courier Six stood with an impatient expression. “Shit.”

oOo

“So let me get this straight…” Six looked between the two as they sat on the sofa, Raul hunched over the desk trying to repair the shrink ray. “You broke my gun, got shrunk, spent a weekend in a hotel with Boone, and you still haven't given him one?” Six used their arm to create a penis gesture. “I'm disappointed in you, Arcade.”

The miniature doctor rolled his eyes. “That wasn't exactly top on my list of priorities. Besides, I'm too small to give Boone anything.” He glanced up at the silent sniper who was blushing slightly. 

Six laughed. “Oh, I dunno. I'm sure you'd get creative.” They sniggered and folded their arms. “I'm surprised you didn't trek across the Mojave to find us if you wanted it repaired. We were only at Camp McCarren, that's barely a stroll.”

Boone spoke up for the first time in a while. “Barely trust myself around him here. Not about to risk his life on a whim.”

Arcade’s ears tinged pink and he pressed back against Boone’s rock hard stomach, snuggling. “Besides, you were bound to come back sooner or later, right?” He smirked. “You left us with all your stuff.”

Raul stood up, the shrink ray in his hands. “Well, I tried my best, boss. Need to test it out before we use it but I think I managed to get it fixed.” He passed it to Six who turned it over in their hands, humming. 

“I can reverse the polarity on this. But I need to test to see if it's actually fixed. What do you say, Arcade? Wanna go smaller?” Six grinned, laughing a little. 

Boone frowned. “No, test it on me.” He growled, holding Arcade close. 

Arcade rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding me? You're the only person I trust with me, if you're tiny too, how the hell will you protect me? I don't care if I'm even smaller than this, I know I can trust you.” 

Boone seemed to contemplate this, not happy with it at all. He exhaled and brushed his lips against Arcade’s cheek before setting him on the table. “If you fuck this up,” he snarled, pointing at Six, “I'll use that thing on you, understand?”

“Yo, chill, I got this.” Six smiled and let the shrink ray charge up with a metallic whir. “I'll even VATS it so I don't miss.” 

Arcade looked up at Boone with a worried smile. “...Boone, I… I lo-”

The room was filled with an intense purple flash, and Arcade was gone. Boone knelt beside the table, seeing a tiny white speck on the wooden surface. 

Arcade took a moment to be able to see again, eyes aching at the bright light. He yelped as he was nearly thrown onto his back as Boone knelt, looking around. The table was immensely vast, stretching like the Mojave itself. He looked up, gasping as he looked at Boone. The sniper was colossal, filling Arcade’s sky with a worried frown. As he approached to get a better look, he could feel his breath threatening to blow him away like a hurricane. The sunglasses came off and those beautiful green eyes stared down at him, pupils dilating immensely. Six spoke but it was too loud and distant for Arcade to hear. He tried not to be too horrified as a finger 30ft wide crashed down beside him, the tremor throwing him off his feet. He trembled violently, watching as Boone looked at him with concern. 

“Okay, Arcade, get up.” He picked himself off the polished table and walked forward, stopping beside that massive finger. It was grubby, far dirtier than it seemed when it was gently petting him not a half hour ago. He could see Boone's pores, each one leaking miniscule amounts of nervous sweat that he could see easily. It made him wonder, if he was able to live like this for a while, how much research he'd be able to do on the human body. Still, he doubted he and Boone could do anything at all like this. 

More talking and Boone slowly withdrew his finger, blowing Arcade the smallest of kisses so as not to whisk him away with his breath. 

Purple light. Arcade stumbled, falling forward, feeling himself caught by two strong, muscular arms. He gasped, feeling woozy but he couldn't mistake the gentle lips pressing into his neck, cradled close to Boone. The ordeal was finally over. 

“Holy shit, I never want to do that again.” Arcade huffed, returning Boone's hug with gusto. They pulled away, both blushing subtly, both a little bashful to finally be the same size. “Thank you, Craig.” Arcade smiled, handing him his sunglasses.

Boone shrugged. “It was no big deal, Gannon.” He reached over, inspecting the repaired and repurposed resize ray in his hands. “Hm. Idea…” He mumbled softly. 

Arcade raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what is this idea, pray tell?” 

Boone smirked ever so slightly. “My turn to be small for a little bit.”  
Arcade pondered this for a second before realising that wasn't such a bad idea. He and Boone had gained mutual trust from this misadventure, this could help strengthen their bond. Maybe being bite sized had its perks after all.


End file.
